


Carnal Lullaby

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24500641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie
Summary: Loki can't sleep, and he needs you to help tire him out.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 129





	Carnal Lullaby

Grasping fingers smoothing over your belly beneath your oversized tee coaxed you from the depths of your peaceful sleep. A confused, questioning hum sounded in your throat at Loki’s warm leg gliding in between yours.

“I cannot sleep, my love,” he murmured in his rough, low growl that instantly kindled a fire of desire in your abdomen. He left soft, lingering kisses along the edge of your jaw. “Would you assist me with my sleeplessness?”

Blinking your eyes open, you turned your head on your pillow to gaze at your lover, taking in his lust-blown pupils and mischievous grin with the help of cool, blue moonlight filtering in through your gauzy curtains. A blink and you could almost imagine ridges patterning his skin and crimson in his heavy-lidded stare. Your fingers trailed down his torso to rub back and forth along his thigh pinning you to the bed. “And what’d you have in mind for that?”

“Just lie back,” he rolled his hips into you, pointedly directing his unclothed erection to twitch eagerly against your thigh, “and allow me to take you as I please. You are so ravishing, my love, I cannot resist.”

As if his desires needed an explanation for the nudge of his nose against the shell of your ear, followed by the curl of his tongue against the hollow of your throat. As if being with him in your bed was anything less than a privilege that you reveled in every morning when you woke to his sleep-softened smile and every night when his slow, steady breaths fanned against the nape of your neck and he wrapped himself around you. As if he was anything less than good to you, good _for_ you and _in_ you and _on_ you, and as if he wouldn’t make the nighttime interlude worth your interrupted dreams.

The lave of his tongue over your pulse point, followed by a sensual suck that you knew would bruise, sealing his claim over you, sent molten anticipation flowing through your veins to pool in between your legs. Arching your neck to offer more of yourself to his talented tongue, you grinned at the slowly spinning ceiling fan. “I _guess_ I’ll hel-”

The desperate, hungry crash of his lips into yours silenced your playful response. Teasing, sweeping strokes of his tongue tossed fuel to the flames licking against your skin. Deft fingers that intimately knew every swell and dip of you teased down your sides and dug into the giving flesh of your hips. You parted for him easily, legs falling open beneath your silken sheets, arms hooked lazily over his shoulders, and lips gasping for air to feed the desire he so easily ignited within you.

“Ah, ah,” he chided you breathlessly, propping himself up on one elbow by your shoulder so his other hand could remove yours from his smooth skin. Dazzling green and gold light removed what little clothing separated your tingling skin as his free hand caught yours and settled them above your head. “I remember telling you that your part in this was to lie back and allow me to take you.”

Soft, midnight hair fell in a curtain around you to quiet your laughter, contain it in a special, intimate haven created from his forehead resting against yours. The tilt of your chin allowed you to nip at his lower lip. “Get on with it, then. We don’t have all night.”

Challenge gleamed in his eyes to match the growl rumbling through his chest and into yours. His elegant, heartbreakingly beautiful face dipped below your gaze, and not a moment later cool lips encircled the peak of your breast. His other hand memorized the rasp of your skin beneath his calloused fingertips, trailing a path from aching breast, to ticklish bellybutton, to velvety folds glistening with need for him.

“Always so ready for me, sweetling. So good for your king,” he murmured, pressing the praise into your heaving chest, accentuating the words with the graze of his teeth and pinch of his fingers so that your body bowed off of the bed.

More words of encouragement slipped from his lips and over your skin, lifting goosebumps only to be soothed by flicking fingers and twisting tongue. More flames seared your skin from the inside out until you had to card your hands into his hair and tug to hold onto some semblance of reality for the blinding heat that burned your thoughts to ash. More shaking laughter spilled from your lips to be swallowed by his kiss when you jerked at the pinch of his fingers over your throbbing clit, so sensitive from your release that he hummed in approval.

“You’ve forgotten yourself, little one, but that may be forgiven.”

So smug that your heart swelled against your ribcage for the wonderful, impossible man feathering kisses over your sternum.

Velvet-sheathed steel pressed into you, slow and steady, stretching and filling so that your fingernails dug into the swell of his backside. You breathed him in, salt and soap and masculinity and _Loki_. He was sleepy, content, soft and gentle with his mouth anchored to your shoulder and your hand squeezing the curve of his backside to urge him deeper. Languid and lithe above you, his heart beating his passion against yours. Your ankles hooked around his calves, the steady rise and fall of his body adding to the molten heat unfurling to the tips of your toes and pads of your fingers holding him tight.

Your release washed over you in a gentle wave, your body trembling beneath his at your silent cry. He followed you, his back arching and hips stilling to push you into the mattress. The taste of his surrender was sweet on your tongue, lips curling against his neck as he cried out his bliss into your hair.

Loki tenderly brushed the back of his fingers down your flushed cheek, the faintest tint of blue and raised markings hinting at the source of his suddenly chilled caress. Wicked lips parted to speak and your hand lifted and covered his mouth.

“Sleepytime now, sweetheart,” you whispered, patting his backside twice.

He smoothed one last kiss over the crown of your head and rolled you onto your sides, adjusting your leg over his hip so that he never had to part from your welcoming heat. Your arms tucked in between your bodies and his lax bicep proved a most comfortable pillow. The last of his claim on you to match the marks peppered into your chest and neck. Green light swirled around the blankets to bring them up to your waists as your eyes fluttered closed. 

“Yes, darling. Thank you,” he slurred, sleep already pulling him toward his well-earned rest. “Goodnight.”


End file.
